


I Guess This Is Growing Up

by Burning_Up_A_Sun



Series: Georgia On My Mind [3]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Coming Out, Enduring relatives, Fantasizing, Jack and Bitty are too far away from each other, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship, Sexual Fantasy, heteronormative bullshit, mention of Kent Parson - Freeform, well-meaning auntie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 11:13:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8141764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Up_A_Sun/pseuds/Burning_Up_A_Sun
Summary: Jack's mother and family friend (Aunt Janet Gretzky) decide that Jack needs furniture. Jack and Alicia dance around the subject of Bitty, because he hasn't told anyone except Maman and Papa that he's gay.  But relatives have a way of making you realize things about yourself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> God Bless ElizaJane and Crowgirl for their unwavering patience with this fic, which has gone through so many incarnations since May. It's not good til they say it's good. 
> 
> If you got here by googling your name, Please back out of the page. (Uncle) Wayne Gretzky's wife is Janet. They've been married over 30 years and have 5 kids. 
> 
> Also, I played a bit fast and loose with how long it takes to get places by car. My apologies to the residents of Providence and Quonochontaug for narrowing your worlds.

**_Good morning, sugar!!_ **

Jack grinned at Bitty’s text, but when he followed up with a selfie, messy hair curling toward his eyes, still heavy with sleep, all of Jack’s thoughts (and blood) rushed south. They’d been separated far too long this time, and he ached to wake up next to Bitty. To curl around him and kiss the wisps of hair at the back of his neck, the new freckles on his shoulder. To fall back asleep—or not.

**Good morning??** Jack tapped out. **The day’s half over, Bittle.**

**_When you’re here, you can discipline me. Until then, you can think about it…_ **

“Oh, fuck,” Jack groaned. _Think about disciplining Bitty? Cuffing his ankles and wrists to the corner posts of the new, king sized bed. Not allowing him to speak. Was that even possible for Bitty? Pulling down the too-short red shorts and spanking his ass._ A tiny _yes, please_ gasped when Jack asked if Bitty needed the rules reinforced. Desperate to fuck Bitty but waiting, waiting, until he feared he would come with the first thrust.

_“Crisse,_ ” Jack said into the empty apartment. _Woah...Where did those thoughts come from? Would Bitty even want to try?_ He pushed old newspapers and magazines out of the way and stretched his legs on the worn couch and palmed himself, already hard from the thoughts of dominating Bitty.

He closed his eyes and pictured kissing the pink, raised welts he’d leave on Bitty’s ass. And, when he pressed his lips against the tender skin, Bitty might shift, roll his hips, dragging them against Jack’s flushed cock. Not with enough friction to get Jack off, just to tease him until _he_ was the one begging.

He’d never really had vivid fantasies like this until Bitty, but he could never find the right words to share that with him. In Madison, it had been easy to show how he felt about Bitty. The picture this morning--Bitty looked so good. Jack decided to Snapchat himself jerking off to show Bitty how just one word made him _want._ Remind him how it had been, how it would be the next time they were together. He switched the phone to his left hand and maxed Bitty’s selfie then unzipped his jeans. He slid his hand into his boxer briefs to tease himself with long, slow pulls. He thought about Bitty’s plump ass, his long, thin fingers, and God, those lips. He twisted his wrist, dragging wetness around the tip of his dick, and thrust into his slick fist. 

When his phone vibrated again, his mind tumbled through all the filthy things Bitty might have sent in the new text. _Mon Dieu, what if it’s a--picture?_

**Bonjour, Jack. Just parking downstairs. Be up in a sec.**

Fuck. Fuck! How had he forgotten lunch with Maman?? Jack jumped up, attempting to push himself back into his boxers, zip his jeans and not look guilty as all hell. His mother was Sherlock Fucking Holmes when it came to figuring out something from nothing. He tried to regulate his breathing as he washed his hands. _I’m an adult; I’m allowed to have a sex life._

No matter how many times he told himself that, he knew Maman would see the blush high on his cheeks and a stray hair on his shirt and know he’d been jerking off. 

Jack grabbed his phone and tapped out a **Talk later. Going to lunch with Maman** text to Bitty. At least they could laugh about it later. As an afterthought, he added, **And Bittle? Try to get out of bed while there’s still some daylight left.** He shoved his phone into his back pocket and answered the doorbell. 

“Maman,” he said, light hearted as she hugged him instead of speaking. He’d forgotten how much taller he was now; her head rested on his chest and she could hear his heartbeat just as he could remember hearing hers when he was little.

“Jack Laurent, you’re too thin, baby,” Alicia said, clasping him tighter. “Are you eating?” She pressed a kiss to his chest before stepping out of the way. “Look who came with!”

She moved aside and Auntie Janet stepped into her spot, beaming at the surprise. “Give me a hug!” She tried to throw her arms around Jack’s neck but couldn’t reach and wrapped them around his waist instead. “What happened to my baby?! I can’t kiss the top of your head anymore.” Aunt Janet and Uncle Wayne—the Gretzkys—had always been part of their extended family. They were related by spirit if not by blood. 

“I can fix that,” Jack grinned, leaning over so she could kiss his head. She ruffled his hair, and he felt like he was a kid again. Like when he jumped off the Gretzky’s dock into the chilly lake water every summer and his biggest worry had been how awesome his cannonball splash would be. 

She held her lips against his forehead before kissing his cheek. “Uncle Wayne and I are sorry we missed your graduation. This was such an important journey for you after the--” Janet released Jack and swiped the tears welling at the corner of her eye. “Enough of that. Let me see your bachelor pad.”

Jack held the loft door open for them, choking back a laugh. “Bachelor pad?”

“Oh, God. No one says that anymore, do they?” Janet hid her face in mostly mock embarrassment as Alicia patted her shoulder.

Jack led them into the living room; it wasn’t much yet, but the realtor said it had “potential,” and he loved the floor to ceiling windows in the living room. But between conditioning and meetings, he hadn’t spent a lot of time at in the apartment. He hoped to convince Bitty to fly up a few weeks before school started so they could make this home _theirs._ Painting, decorating, furniture. He couldn’t wait to set Bitty loose in one of Providence’s specialty kitchen stores and buy everything Bitty said he’d need. 

Alicia and Janet took in the one ratty sofa (that smelled like wet dog) and the wobbly, stained coffee table. They were silent, and for the first time, Jack saw the apartment through an outsider’s eyes and cringed. 

Aunt Janet opened her mouth, then closed it before she said anything. A moment later, she gestured toward the empty loft and the furniture with a sour look that clearly said _no woman would be caught dead here._ “This place has real… _potential,_ but... Jack. You’re never going to score if you live like this.” 

“I know it’s not much,” Jack apologized, hastily grabbing the newspapers and magazines littering the table. “Tater gave me the furniture so I'd have something.” Jack gestured toward the sofa, spilling the _Sports Illustrated_ s onto the floor as they slid out of his hand. “When it’s furnished—”

“It will be _absolutely adorable_.” Janet turned slowly to take in the entire living area. “The windows are a beautiful feature.” She and Alicia looked out on the city’s skyline. Jack pointed out The Dunkin’ Donuts Center where the Falconers play, the Convention Center, the park in the distance.

“Jack, this is a wonderful apartment.” Alicia threaded her arms around his waist as she stretched up on her toes, her mouth at his ear. “Eric is going to love it.”

Jack nodded against his mother’s cheek, relieved by her approval. It wasn’t necessary--he really was a grown man--but it was gratifying, reassuring that he was on the right path. “Thank you.”

Janet spun away from the windows, her hand pressed against her chest. “Oh. My. God. I just had a brilliant idea.” 

“Oh. My. God. Yes!” Alicia gasped and reached for Janet’s hand.

Jack froze with something between fear and excitement, like the first face-off of a new season. A scheming Maman was frightening because sometimes it was amazing (like when, on a whim, she took him to tour Samwell) and sometimes it really, really, wasn’t (like the time they made barbecue chicken smoothies for dinner when Bob had broken his jaw).

“What if we went--” Alicia began. 

“Perfect! I know an adorable place in Quonochontaug!” Janet cut Alicia off with a high-five. 

Alicia grabbed her purse from where she’d dropped it on the couch. “The one by your beach house, where you and Wayne bought that perfect—”

“Yes! We still have it in the basement, and after all these years and the five kids, it still looks great.” Janet opened the loft’s door to usher them out. 

Confused, Jack grabbed his phone and keys and followed them out, locking the door behind him. He dreaded what the two had cooked up without speaking enough words.

“It’s ok, baby.” Alicia turned to Jack, who’d settled in the back seat of Janet’s SUV. “You need furniture, and your auntie and I are expert shoppers.” Another high five as Janet pulled onto the highway. “You’ll need it for when--”

Alicia caught herself and finished with a breath of relief at the close call. “--y’know. The team comes to visit.”

Jack fell against the seat, surprised that he’d allowed himself to be roped into this. Rather than worry for the next hour, he closed his eyes and lost himself in the melody of his mother’s voice more Quebecois now than American and the comfortable familiarity of their shorthand conversation. She’d almost slipped about Bitty, and Jack felt vaguely uneasy about it. For now, they were a closely held secret, but they needed to discuss whom they could tell sooner rather than later. Formulate A Plan For Telling People, But Strictly on a Need to Know basis for now.

**Have you told anyone about us?** Jack texted Bitty as if he’d been part of the conversation in Jack’s head. 

**_What? No. Why? OMG, is it out?!_ **

Jack fumbled with his phone, couldn't call, couldn’t text fast enough to ease Bitty’s rising fear. 

**_Jack. Answer me. Were we outed?_ **

He knew Bitty would be scrolling, racing through Twitter as fast as his eyes could scan, searching for Jack’s name on the trending hashtags. 

**Nothing like that,** Jack sent as quickly as he could, to try to settle Bitty’s worry. Then he added **Just thinking that we should talk about who we should/could tell about us** in a second text. 

**_Good Lord Jack. I’m young, but my heart can’t take that fright again._ **

“Has Jack brought home any nice girls lately?” Aunt Janet asked Alicia as if Jack weren’t there to answer for himself. She checked her rearview mirror and changing lanes to exit the Interstate. 

Jack stopped, his finger hovering over the keyboard mid-text. He knew how this discussion would go. Just like he knew that the first bite of Bitty’s pie would taste flaky and sweet and tart. He’d hated this conversation since the Q, when he’d skated with Kent on his wing, there, always there when he made a pass. When _made a pass_ had more than one meaning. When his focus fractured, and he let Kent in.

“Anyone serious?” Janet asked again when Alicia didn’t respond.

Jack forced himself to breathe like the therapist had drilled into him, slow and steady, but he scored the silicone phone case with his sharp thumbnail, gouging the worn groove as he listened. 

He’d always thought boys were more interesting than girls. He liked their easy companionship, that he could fall back on their shared interests if he didn’t know what else to say. When his friends set him up with girls, he’d talk about the weather and listen, but almost never understood what girls were talking about. But he’d nod. A lot. Eventually the girl would excuse herself for a moment and just not come back. He’d never cared enough to look for them. 

But Kent.

They’d spend all day together and never stop talking. They’d bump shoulders and sometimes, their knees might touch under the table when they shared Timbits and coffee. After one _fucking_ awesome win, when Kent scored a hatty and Jack’s goal won it-- the two of them were crushed at the center of the post-game celly mayhem, pushed against each other. _God, I fucking want to kiss you right now,_ Kent had said, barely loud enough for Jack to hear, maybe quietly enough to deny. 

After the reporters wandered out, after the teammates left in groups of two and three to the local bar where they ignored the obviously fake IDs, Jack and Kent hung back, promising to catch up. 

Alone in the shower room, Jack watched Kent undress, knowing that was what Kent had wanted. 

Their first touch. Kent’s lean, tight muscles pressed to him, the scrape of his stubble against Jack’s cheek. The searing _want_ he’d never felt during any of his awkward fumbling with girls. 

“I’m not sure,” Alicia said, dodging the truth. “You’d have to ask Jack.” She flipped open the visor mirror and caught Jack’s eye as she checked her make up. She raised an eyebrow, and Jack answered with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, but knowing they were a little wider, a little more deer-in-the-headlights than he wanted to show.

“Emma’s moved back home. I always hoped she and Jack might...Do you think he’d be interested--”

He swallowed around the growing lump in his throat, knowing he could stop this now. Stop her from treating him like an invisible child. Stop her heteronormative assumptions. He could tell her he’s gay, and she probably wouldn’t judge him or tell anyone. But sharing that beyond his mother and father felt dangerous, like walking a tightrope while inviting people to thwack the cable.

“Is this it?” Alicia cut short the conversation, still watching Jack in the mirror.

“You okay, Jack? You’re awfully quiet today,” Janet asked, as she negotiated the large SUV through the cramped parking lot and into a spot. Without waiting for his answer, she continued, “Ben’s furniture is the highest quality. You’ll own this furniture the rest of your life, long after your babies are young adults.”

**Save me,** he texted Bitty as he held the shop’s door open for his mother and auntie. 

Jack’s phone buzzed with the return text. **_What is going on today? Do I need to call?_**

**No,** Jack texted slowly. **My mother and Aunt Janet kidnapped me. They’re taking me furniture shopping.**

**_Aunt Janet? Like, Janet *Gretzky*?_ **

**If they’re around, I’ll introduce you.** He dutifully followed his mother and aunt toward the back of the showroom. The saleswoman greeted Janet with a cheek kiss and whisked her and Alicia toward the couches, navigating the crowded floor. Faintly, he heard them discuss the merits of fabric or leather, modern or classic. His ears felt numb at the sheer number of words they used. 

Instead of tagging behind them, Jack found a recliner like his father’s and dropped into it. **Come up early and spend a few weeks with me?** Jack’s teeth scraped his bottom lip as he waited for the response, which came almost immediately. 

**_S;dlfja;sldkfans;lfsd_ **

Jack grinned in relief and loosened his grip on the phone. They were still so new and sometimes, late at night when he couldn’t sleep and the anxiety meds were wearing off, he’d think that maybe he was imagining how Bitty felt. That he was making more of their friendship than Bitty intended. Most nights, he’d slow himself down and remember Madison and the fireworks and them. Usually, those thoughts would lull him to sleep for the last few hours before the alarm.

But sometimes, those doubts wormed their way into the day. **Is that a yes?**

**_Absolutely, yes. :D :D :D And it seems y’all will have furniture by then, whether you want it or not ;)_ **

**See if I find *you* a comfortable chair,** Jack typed back. **Not that we’ll need one.** Jack imagined fourteen days of Bitty, naked and flushed against soft, white sheets, his body shifting as he stretched against Jack.

**_Forget the chair. Find me a soft mattress, big enough we can roll around & not fall off. ;)_ **

A blush rose up Jack’s neck and his cock showed interest at the thought of waking Bitty up with kisses and tiny bites. **Crisse! Tu me fais bander! I’m with my mother, for God’s sake. I can’t buy furniture with a boner.** He pressed his palm against the angled front of his shorts. 

**_I translated that,_** Bitty answered and included a filthy porn movie gif of an erection. Jack laughed aloud, then looked around to make sure no one had heard him. 

With Bitty at least electronically by his side, Jack gave himself over to furniture shopping. He sent pictures of different couches but wasn’t really sure which Bitty liked, since he responded only with emoticons that Jack couldn’t translate.

**I like this one.** Jack sent a photo of an L-shaped sectional couch, which would definitely be wide enough for them to cuddle on and watch television. Among other things. 

**_OMG, yaaaaaaaas._ **

He didn’t hear Janet and Alicia until they were next to him. “Oh Jack, that’ll easily fit you and Eric—”

Janet interrupted Alicia with a raised eyebrow. “Erica? Who’s this Erica? Someone special?”

Jack turned toward her, his mouth slack. He wanted to come up with a good answer, a witty comeback. But his mind wouldn’t cooperate, moved as slowly as the sap they drew from their maple trees in March. Dammit, he was an adult. He should tell her about Bitty. Plus, she’s family, he tried to reason with himself. But the heavy weight he felt pressing on his chest didn’t care and wouldn’t allow him to speak.

Alicia gulped, her voice strained. “Yes, someone special. From a nice southern family.”

Janet extended her hand toward Jack and wiggled her fingers, waiting for his phone. “Picture, please. I have to make sure I approve.”

Jack coughed, wanting to break his silence of fear. He didn’t know what to say, but he did know Bitty deserved better than this. They hadn’t talked about the secrecy yet, but he was pretty sure Bitty wouldn’t agree to be a lie. That he wouldn’t want Bitty to agree to that. 

“Janet, l saw an adorable wall unit over--” Alicia rushed the words, cupping her hand around Janet’s elbow to lead her away.

“Maman, no.” Jack choked out the words over the panic rising in his throat. “His name is Eric, Aunt Janet. He’s my--my partner--my boyfriend.”

His mother was at his side, her voice thick as she apologized again and again. “Honey, I’m so sorry. I didn't mean--”

Jack gathered her into a slow, careful hug. “Maman, it’s not your fault. I should have told her earlier. I guess this is growing up, right?” Jack said into his mother’s hair, hoping he sounded more calm than he felt. “She and Uncle Wayne will accept me or they won’t. But I’m not ashamed.” 

_Don't be ashamed._ All the times the therapist had told him that same thing. He’d told himself the same thing. He finally understood. He finally believed the words.

Alicia sniffled a small laugh and held him tighter. “How’d you get so smart?”

“A good therapist and parents who paid outrageous bills.” He kissed Alicia’s forehead and tucked her hair behind her ear. 

Standing to the side, Janet cleared her throat loudly. “I have a question about this Eric.” 

Jack stepped away from Alicia, forcing himself to breathe slowly. _She loves you_ , he reminded himself. Whatever she had to say, he would listen as long as he could. Be as respectful as he could.

“Is he a good man?” she asked, more softly, more loving than Jack had expected. She touched his cheek, her thumb brushing across it gently.

“He’s a very good man,” Jack whispered, his heart slowing, his breath easing.

“He’d better be.” Janet tried to sound stern, to waggle a finger in his face, but her voice was too thick with emotion. “Your mom and dad are pushovers, but he’s got to get past me and Uncle Wayne. He’s not _in_ until we say so.”

Jack stared, his mouth embarrassingly hanging open. “Thank you--”

Janet held out her hand, her palm facing Jack. “Thank _you_ for trusting me with this. I love you. I’ve known you since you were just a twinkle in your father’s eye. I changed your diapers, kissed your skinned knees. I sat with you in the hospital when you overdosed. I don’t care who you love, just that you’re happy.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and a sob squeaked out. “Now. Forget furniture.” Janet turned to Alicia and smiled. “I know an _absolutely adorable_ little cafe near here. Let’s have something shamefully high in calories and talk about this young man.”

Jack felt heavy and dull, unable to think clearly as he waited for the adrenaline surge to ebb; when Janet led them out of the store and into the humid summer afternoon toward the car, Jack followed. Her steady chatter, questions about Eric and his family, bounced off Jack, and he allowed Alicia to field most of them, while Jack closed his eyes and rested against the seat. He was wrung dry by the panic and the will it had taken to keep at bay and barely had energy to catch snatches of her monologue

“...Jeric...Erack...Oh I’m no good at portmanteaus...from Georgia? I wonder if he knows...must make us a pie…”

**What a day.** Jack texted Eric. **Seeing relatives for the first time in a long time...makes you see them differently.**

“We really must meet him as soon as possible,” Janet said as they drove back toward the Interstate. 

**_Sometimes it makes you see yourself differently, tho. I’ve changed a lot, even if they don’t realize it._**

“I just had a brilliant idea,” Janet said to Alicia, grabbing her wrist in excitement. “Wouldn’t their wedding be _absolutely adorable_ at our beach house…”

Jack shook his head and looked out the window as he thought about Bitty’s words. He had changed. He’d remembered the therapist’s directives and followed them, which staved off the worst of the panic. He’d also realized that he was good enough, that he didn’t have to be ashamed of who he is. 

**_What did you wind up buying?_** Bitty asked from too far away. 

**Nothing. It's complicated.** Jack tapped his phone against his bottom lip as he decided what to share with Bitty. **I miss you.**

**_I miss you, too, sweetheart. You okay?_ **

Bitty’s soothing tone helped calm him further. Jack typed out, **I’ll explain later. Can we talk about us, about public and private us? I don’t want to lie.**

Bitty responded faster than Jack thought someone could type. In his mind, Jack could hear Bitty rising to his defense, the Southern drawl thicker with his fury. **_It's not lies, sugar. We’re just *not telling.* There's a difference. No one has the right to your privacy. Or ours. And it's ours till we choose to share._**

Jack hadn’t thought about it that way. _Choose_ to share. If anyone would understand, it would be Aunt Janet and Uncle Wayne. They’d lived with the media tearing their lives apart for almost 30 years. He should have realized they’d never share his secret. Choosing to tell them about Bitty would be as safe as telling his own parents. 

He leaned forward and rested his chin against his mother's leather seat. “Lunch sounds good. I could use something to eat.”

Jack pecked his passcode into the phone and scrolled through his photos, picking his favorite from Madison that always made him weak from the memories. “When we get to the restaurant, Aunt Janet, I want to introduce you to Eric. I’ve got the perfect picture to show you.”


End file.
